


Used Upholstery

by SetsuntaMew



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-28
Updated: 2010-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3849256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SetsuntaMew/pseuds/SetsuntaMew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Battle City, Malik is involved with Bakura, but he's not so sure that Ryou's body is the only one that's being used.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Used Upholstery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arahith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arahith/gifts).



> Originally published 1/28/2010 on my fanfiction.net account. Crossposting here because it's an older work that I'm still somewhat proud of :D
> 
> Gift fic for arahith, my best friend and partner in card game related crime.

"You'll ruin the upholstery."

Malik stared at Ryou, confused. He usually didn't say much, just sat at the kitchen table sipping his tea while Malik gathered his shoes and keys. The change in routine was jarring, to say the least. But Ryou looked back at him expectantly, and Malik realized he hadn't replied. "What?"

"The couch. Please don't have sex on it, I like its upholstery." And with that, Ryou went back to his tea and the newspaper, leaving Malik staring.

In the months after Battle City, Ryou had never once made a single request of Malik. He'd asked, once, why Ryou didn't mind what Bakura did with his body. He'd gotten a sigh as a response, and then _'At least the spirit has good taste.'_ And that sealed any other conversation on the matter. Instead a routine had formed; Ryou woke up a good hour or two before Malik – with no sign of Bakura, of course, the thief relished sleeping in – and left the bed without a word. Malik would wake up, grab his belongings, and leave, only to end up in Bakura's – _Ryou's?_ – bed before the day was over.

Malik nearly laughed now, once the shock was over. "I'll keep that in mind. Don't worry about your couch, Ryou. It wouldn't be all that comfortable."

Ryou looked and grinned – smiled? smirked? – and Malik wasn't sure if Bakura was gracing him with his presence. But it was all Ryou who answered, soft and deceptively innocently. "It's not."

And Malik's thoughts were haunted all day – even Sister noticed his change in mood, distracted as she was by the museum exhibit – by Ryou, pushed up against the couch, fingers twisted in his hair but not his hair, gasping, breathless, in memories that were his but not his.

When Malik showed up at apartment number 601, Bakura was lounging on the couch. And his mind was seeing things that weren't there, Ryou and himself but not himself, more gasped breaths and sighs and – no no no, Malik was here to escape, not be pulled back into his own deceptive head. He pinned Bakura down, shoving unbidden thoughts – memories? feelings? – out of his head. Mouths met in a battle for dominance, fingers in his hair and pulling at his pants, the not quite smilesmirk on Bakura's face when he lost – or was he winning? Was the thief pulling his strings the whole time? But Malik couldn't bring himself to care, he so rarely had Bakura in this position that he wouldn't question its occurrence.

Bakura pulled Malik into the bedroom later, claiming that the couch wasn't comfortable, and Malik couldn't help but feel vindicated by the thought of Ryou's upcoming annoyance. He hoped the couch was gone the next time he was over, or changed, or anything to remove the not quite memories from his head.

Because if Ryou was going to allow Malik's body to be used, he didn't care a thing for their paper thin friendship anymore.


End file.
